Her Night
by macgyvershe
Summary: AU for Sherlolly shippers. Molly final gets what she's always dreamed of. I am not a Sherlolly shipper I write this genre for my readers. So if you have a Sherlolly story you'd like to see. Email me and I'll see what I can do. Star


**Her Night **

She can feel his arms around her; she is tiny in his all encompassing embrace. He is so tall he has to bend himself down and around her willowy frame. He smells so good. Clean with just the hint of fragrance that she can't place. She takes a deep breath and feels herself melt deeper into the arms of Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock lifts his head from hers as she looks high up into the clouds to see his face so far away. He brings his lips to hers, kisses her; a chaste kiss, light, delicate and devastating in the long, lingering presence that it bestows. Molly pushes the kiss, promising him more than just delicate, promising him her strong passion, her knowledge and her desire to feel the strength of his love.

Her heart is pounding out rhythms, aching to find those same rhythms in him. She is clothed only in her sheer night gown. Nothing of her is hidden and nothing will she hide. She's hidden herself away for far too long; this is the night of reveals. This is the night of anything goes. This is the night she's longed for, hoped for and had thought would never come.

He is down to his tailored slacks, his bare torso pale and glimmered in the moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains of the living room windows.

She touches his skin, warm and so ethereal in this light. He takes her hand and kisses the palm, placing it over his fast beating heart.

"Yours," he says, his little boy smile overcoming her with its playfulness.

Her shy smile broadens into a lovers kiss as she throws her arms around his neck and pulls herself up to meet his welcoming lips.

He holds her tightly with his left arm. Sweeping her legs up with his right arm, he bridle carries her to her bedroom. Laying her gently on the bed, slowly he disrobes; watching as her eyes go wide with approval of what she sees. He finally takes his place at her side. She removes her night gown. Nothing is between them now as they lay skin against skin.

As he gathers her up he whispers, "Show me, teach me how to please you. I learn very quickly."

She remembers then, this is going to be his first time. Surely he has some basic knowledge of the art of making love, of what a woman likes? But he is a virgin, untouched and pure. What a gift he is giving her and what a responsibility to take up. There were so many things that can go wrong. She'd only had one other virgin in her life and that hadn't gone down too well. It was over before it started. Oh god she didn't want it to be a sixty second gambit.

She looked at him, so beautiful and eager to please her. _Tuck up girl_, she thinks to herself. _You wanted this, now give it your best, there's no going back._

(-_-)

He looks to her for guidance.

_Oh my god ._She thinks._ She's been here before. Why weren't there books on the care and initiation of virgin males? She could sure use one now._

"Okay, it is always good to know what a woman likes as everyone's different, but since your experience is limited, I think we will be concentrating on your side of the equation first time."

"My only contact with an actual woman was with Irene Adler.

"Well, I'm nothing at all like her." Molly has read John's blog about the salacious Irene.

"Thank goodness, her proclivities were bizarre as well as painful." Sherlock looks genuinely glad about that.

"Okay, I think a bit of kissing would be good right now." Molly thinks anything will be better than discussing Irene Adler.

Molly pulls Sherlock down to her and plants an adoring kiss upon his luscious lips. Sherlock being Sherlock learns at the speed of light and returns her kiss with plenty of his own.

Sherlock comes up for air, a wonderfully cool expression on his face.

"That is actually quite satisfying on many levels, Molly. Is there a dictated amount of time that the kissing should last, how many phases are involved in the entire coital process?"

Molly is totally amazed by the unexpected intensity of the unbelievably long kisses Sherlock delivers which have coincidentally blown all her major female fuses.

"Oh, my god, Sherlock, you are a quick‒quick learner."

"Thank you, Molly. I'm looking forward to your teaching me about this highly rarified activity."

"Sherlock, we are not going to talk about this as if it was a clinical exercise. This is me and you. This is more about our feelings and arousal leading to fantastic sex and climax."

"Okay, that sounds reasonably simple in all its aspects. How does one become aroused if I might inquire?"

"Well, that is actually a function that we both have to contribute to." Molly looked at Sherlock and saw that neither one of them were doing their job well at that moment.

**(-_-)**

"How shall we handle this," Sherlock queried?

Molly couldn't help but giggle at Sherlock's double entendre. Sherlock laughed too.

"Humor helps to break the tension," Sherlock stated, knowing humor would definitely help right now.

"It's difficult for me, Sherlock. I'm your first and I don't want to screw this up. This is important for you."

"No, Molly, this should be about both of us. So we need to relax and enjoy what's happening, even if what I do isn't what you are used to. I assure you I will do the very best I can and I will only get better with practice. There will be a great deal of practice."

"Okay, you are right, of course." Molly took a deep breath and felt Sherlock delicately touching her randomly all over her body.

He found it. Just along her rib cage, she has a ticklish spot and once found Sherlock zoned in on it. Molly started laughing and trying desperately to evade his exceptional touch. Then his mouth is on hers and his kisses are adoring and gentle. The tickling stops, but the touching and kisses continue to melt Molly and Sherlock as they roll around on the large bed.

Molly caresses the very slender Sherlock whose skin is surprisingly soft. His pale blue eyes sparkle with mischievousness and he continues to be a surprisingly adaptable lover.

(-_-)

Sherlock is flushed pink with his the intensity of his orgasm, Molly is so happy that she has been very instrumental in that beautiful flush. Sherlock begins to giggle briefly as he remembers the condom incident. Molly joins in, happy to find they are comfortable in their minor sexual fumbles.

"I'm going to have to practice putting condoms on," Molly says with good humor.

"You can practice on me anytime you want to," Sherlock offers gallantly. He knows he hasn't been her best lover, but he has been the most focused and caring that she'd ever had. She'd smiled, laughed and come to completion multiple times. He has satisfied her and that is all that he cares about. He is learning sex is all a matter of control. Something Sherlock is extremely good at. So in the future things will be very different for them, he has a great deal to learn about what she likes and even what he likes. All of it is worth it, she is worth it. Molly is sparkling, beautiful, intelligent, caring and knowledgeable. Most of all she loves him and Sherlock knows love can be a destructive element, but it can also be a protection; a warmth of shared feelings and pleasures. The risks are devilishly high, but the rewards, the friendship, the love, the being part of someone else's life, is worth every risk in the world.

Molly is his life, his lover and nothing and no one will come between them. His _lover; _he likes that. Now he has a friend and a lover; John and Molly. This is so strange and new for him and slightly terrifying. Yet it felt right, so comfortable and a whole lot of vulnerable. He couldn't let anything happen to either of them.

(-_-)

Molly is practicing her condom placement; condom on, condom off‒condom on, condom off. She is getting rather good at the smoothing them on and rolling them off with her mouth. And, of course, Sherlock is being the perfect practice play-toy. He plays with her long chestnut colored hair as she practiced, practiced, practiced placing the life-jacket on him.

"I think you might want to leave that one for now," Sherlock says after her last application.

"Right then," she gives him a sly wink.

Like a rolling tide, Sherlock rises up from underneath her and descends upon Molly taking her breath away as he brings his life jacket to bear upon her sand-less beach.

(-_-)

"You know," he said later, "your practicing had rather a nice affect upon my pleasure centers. I rather liked it.

"Sherlock, you are so easy," Molly wants to laugh, but suppresses her laughter to a broad heart-felt smile.

"Am I? I think this taking it slow and easy is good for both of us. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I'm just so happy that you are happy." Molly snuggled into the crook of his neck, her hand upon his heart. His heart beat is strong, slowing to normal. Could life be any better than this, she thinks?

With Sherlock, sexuality wasn't a rushed activity. He always made ample time for it and he knew that control was essential. Sherlock is all about control; controlling blood flow, controlling ejaculation, so this control activity is totally within his comfort zone. What Molly gives him is release. End of control; she brought spontaneity, pleasure in oneself as well as one's partner. This lack of control is new to him; wonderfully new and daunting as well. He can't say he revels in it yet, but it is growing on him.

Molly began licking Sherlock's left nipple the one closest to her. She licks it, nibbled it and began sucking it voraciously.

"Ah, I think I have a live one, Molly. Shall I reel her in or let her play?" Sherlock is wide eyed and held hostage by Molly's warm mouth.

Molly said nothing but merely continues to suckle the nipple as her hands drifted lower and lower on Sherlock's torso.

"I think we will have to let this one play, as I have no idea where this little fish is taking me. Somewhere nice I think."

Molly continued her tongue play and Sherlock stroked her long chestnut hair, her perfect small breasts. He wondered how he'd ever lived without her gentle touch, without this warm and sensual woman, without this amazing life?

**(-_-)**

The mellow bedroom light haloed the glistening moisture on her skin. She glowed with her love for Sherlock. She sleeps his arms. How so very, very lucky he feels that she'd let him into her heart. She is a beautiful presence in his embrace, snuggling into his side as if she is the best part of him.

He traces the lines of her face, memorizing the soft inclines of her body. Finding hidden treasures everywhere, in his short life he'd never been interested in the 'fairer' sex. Not interested in sex at all. Now he couldn't get enough, couldn't touch her enough. Couldn't pleasure her enough, for in her pleasure, he found his own and his deepening humanity ached to be one with her. His machine heart now glowed with its own inner love. What a fool he'd been not to see her love, her loyalty, and her inner strength; a strength that surpassed any that he'd seen in another person, except for John. Molly and John are stronger than he can ever imagine himself.

He should let her sleep. It was still early morning and he really should let her sleep, but the scent of her is all so intoxicating, delightful and thoroughly arousing.

He kisses her forehead, gently so as not to wake her. Her sweet-salty taste is heaven on his tongue. How emancipating is this silent time with her. The rest of the world be damned. Let it all fade into insignificance. He rained tiny kisses on her face, her throat, down to her small and perfect breasts. His arms pulled her tighter, closer to his beating heart where she belonged. If this is what love is, this place of awaking, this stepping stone to another reality; then he is more than willing to bend his knee to it, to surrender all so that he can bask in the harmony, the simplicity, the calm comfort of a love that let nothing else prevail against it.

Her lips touched him and there was a tiny kiss as her whiskey colored eyes, eyes that held their own inner light and life came open. She smiles with such contentment and joy that Sherlock has to kiss those lips to taste that joy. To know it is a part of him also.

"Hello, handsome," she breathes.

In all his life, people had always been put off by his odd, ethereal appearance, but Molly rejoiced in him, found him 'beautiful' and exotic.

"Morning Molly," he beamed with pride at her words.

Sherlock shown a full on I-couldn't-be-happier smile that just made her want to cry for joy, she brought such happiness into his life. She is the cause of his beatific smile. Tears of joy gathered at the corners of her eyes. He found them there and brought his fingers close to touch them, concern on his face. Her small hand held his long elegant one and brought it to her heart.

"Love me," she said, not a question or a statement, but a request for more, please.

He crushed her with his kisses and consumed her with the fire of his timeless love.

**(-_-)**

"Is this the way it always is in the beginning? This mad rush of excitement, pleasure, awkwardness, mixed with fun and fumbling?" He is giggling at her as he eats his biscuit and tea in bed.

"Pretty much," she answered between sips of tea and bites of biscuit.

"Have you had many lovers, Molly?" Sherlock is curious.

"Too few to count, to many to remember," She says wisely.

"You are a woman of infinite wisdom and great biscuits." He retorts, biting into another one.

"Oiy, I think you like my biscuits better than me." She made to pinch his biscuit from him and he pulled it away from her quickly.

He caught her by the nape of her neck with his long reach and pulled her into a tender kiss, one that tasted of fresh biscuits. One of many kisses that she had encountered on her night; a night which is fast approaching morning.

"Tell me this will be one of a life-time full of long nights to come," Sherlock says hopefully.

"Winter comes, Sherlock, no woman in her right mind will throw you from her bed."

"And are you, Molly, are you in your right mind?" He pulls her close and the tea cups are placed on flat surfaces and forgotten.

"Right as rain, right as ever I will be." She is struggling in his arms. Thinking that he is going to do his worst and take a tip at her ticklish spot and she is right. He goes at her ribs and tickles her relentlessly. She throws her arms about his neck and gives him a kiss that will halt his tickling torture.

"Tell me that I will always be keeping your bed warm, Molly?" Sherlock is uncharacteristically concerned about her answer.

"You will always be keeping my bed warm whether it is winter or not Sherlock. _You will grow weary of keeping my bed warm_." She says in an old woman's voice. She looks up into his crystal blue electric eyes and she sees he wanted to hear her say those words.

"Molly Hooper, I promise to warm you bed and fill your heart and broadcast my love to a startled and apathetic world. I promise you that. Is tonight at seven too soon?"

"I'll be the woman in the bed waiting patiently for her Sherlock to arrive," she says seductively.


End file.
